


Soft Steps in an Uncertain Night

by TheBetterAngelsOfOurNature



Series: Patience of a Saint [5]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: But I seriously tried to do this in game, Canon-Typical Violence, Diamond City, F/M, I love the DC Guards, It did not work., Non-Graphic Violence, Power Armor, Saving NPCs, Synths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBetterAngelsOfOurNature/pseuds/TheBetterAngelsOfOurNature
Summary: She's got a goal and a way to get to it, but first Eliza needs to patch up that decimated Power Armor. After a violent welcome in Diamond City, choosing to let Nick relax seems like a good idea, but Nick Valentine isn't one to sit still while there's a case to be followed.





	1. Blood On The Diamond

We paced our way back to Diamond City, avoiding the bigger groups of Raiders and giving Boston Common a wide berth. _One day I'll go back there,_ I decided, _when I'm stronger. Go back to where I got lost. To where I found my way._

When we walked into Diamond City, there was a crowd.

Nick put his hand on his gun and growled, “Somebody's brewin' trouble, and I don't think it's Piper this time.”

It was definitely trouble. In the center of a crowd, a man stood, leveling a gun at another man, who held his hands up in surrender.

“For God's sake,” he cried, “Kyle, I'm not a synth! Don't shoot!”

“You're not the real Riley!” The man holding the gun had tears in his eyes. “What have you done with my brother?”

“Don't shoot! For God's sake, we're _family_!”

I moved. The gun fired. I felt the bullet puncture my chest, and then I slammed into the man. Our bodies went down just as a shotgun shell went darting over our heads.

“Eliza!” I heard Nick yell.

“Everybody get back,” a Diamond City guard yelled.

“What the hell?” The man who had been holding the gun was under me, and I was bleeding onto his chest. “What did you do?”

“Kyle!” The other man, Riley, grabbed him and pulled him up. “Are you okay? What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“I... I thought...”

From where I lay, bleeding, on the floor, I could see tears in Kyle's eyes.

“I thought you were a synth,” he cried, “I thought... oh God, what did I... oh God.”

The two brothers hugged, Kyle sobbing onto Riley's shoulder. I looked down at the blood staining the front of my Vault suit. _Worth it._ My vision was starting to darken, and I realized that I should be feeling pain. Almost instantly my brain went into overdrive; I was _dying_. I scrambled for a Stimpak, too scared to even cry. Nick pushed the guard out of his way, ran over, snatched up the Stimpak, and slammed it into my ribs. I cried out as all my muscles tensed, then relaxed as the healing began to take place.

“Thanks, partner,” I said.

“If you're taking that job offer, we might need to talk about a little something called self-preservation,” he growled, “because I don't plan to join up with anyone who likes to intercept bullets for fun.”

“But he was going to kill his brother,” I said, “I couldn't just... stand there.”

Nick stared down at me. _What a sad sight I've gotta be,_ I realized, _lying on the dirty Diamond City floor in a pool of blood. Real detective material._

A guard hesitantly knelt down next to me.

“Er... is she dead,” he asked.

“Sorry to disappoint, but no,” Nick snapped.

The guard rubbed the back of his neck. “Well... it's just... no loitering, you know?”

Nick and I stared at him.

“Sir,” I said sternly, “I am bleeding onto the floor. Please, kindly give me about three minutes and I'll be on my way.”

“Are you gonna clean up the, you know... fluids?”

I dug my nails into the ground. “That has to be a joke.”

“It's just... it's a health hazard.”

“This woman just got shot in the chest because you didn't do your damned job,” Nick said, his eyes flashing angrily, “and you've got the spine to suggest she clean up the blood she lost saving a man's life?”

The guard cringed. “No.”

“Then I suggest you get a damned mop,” Nick snarled, “and do some work for the city that doesn't involve being a gigantic waste of oxygen.”

I grinned. “Funny,” I said.

The guard stood and walked away, his bat hanging awkwardly by his side. The onlookers quickly rushed around me, but two more guards shooed them away.

“Nothing to see here,” they yelled, “so move along! What's everyone standing around for? The only synth in Diamond City is Valentine. There ain't any others; just you folks and your damn paranoia! Go on, get out of here!”

Nick looked down at me. “You alright?”

I reached up. “A hand, please?”

He pulled me back up onto my feet.

I looked down at the blood. “Oh. Yes, that's... that's quite the amount.”

“No kidding,” Nick grumbled.

“I don't suppose you've got a washing machine I could use, to get the blood out of my suit?”

“No, but I've got something better.” Nick took my arm and supported my weight as I walked along. “Ellie. She can get bloodstains out of anything.”

“But... you don't bleed,” I said.

A small, crooked smile played around Nick's mouth.

“No, but the bad guys sure do.”

 


	2. Patching Things Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of things about the Commonwealth that Eliza wants to fix; right now, her armor is at the top of the list. Ellie, however, is more interested in fixing Nick's lack of a partner.

“Do you mind trying to keep our clients in one piece, Nick?” Ellie huffed as she strutted around the office. “You were gone for a few days. You come back and she's been shiskebabed!”

“To his credit, Ellie, I was fine until I jumped in front of a bullet.” I sat in a chair wearing my spare clothes, a rose dress, until Ellie finished cleaning my suit. “Are you sure you don't want my help? I feel bad making you do my laundry.”

“Don't worry about it.” Ellie grabbed a box of Abraxo Cleaner. “Just do me a favor and don't jump in front of any more bullets.”

“No promises.”

She turned around and gave me a teasing glare. “You're going to be more trouble than Nick is.”

I laughed. “Is that saying something?”

“Yes,” Ellie and Nick chorused.

“And for goodness sakes,” Ellie added, “put down that big backpack.”

“You can take a breather in here,” Nick said.

I obliged them, dropping my backpack in the corner. As Nick and Ellie walked about, I watched them interact. Vaguely, I wondered if they were a couple. _Gruff, kind-hearted detective and young, spunky secretary... Maybe?_ But the more I watched them, the more it seemed to be like the interactions of a sassy young sister and her much older, much more risk-taking brother. I looked over at Ellie's well-organized desk. A case file was lying on it.

Ellie saw me look. “So, about that job offer...”

“Nick's not sure he'll have me, after this bullet incident,” I said with a grin.

Ellie snorted. “If I had a cap for every bullet hole he's got, I'd be a rich woman.”

“And then you wouldn't have to work for me, would you,” Nick said with a touch of sarcasm.

“Oh right, like I've got a million other things to do,” Ellie said, sitting down at her desk, “Ellie Perkins, social butterfly.”

“I keep tellin' ya to get out more,” said Nick.

“That's rich, coming from you,” Ellie retorted.

Nick just flicked his cigarette at her, sending a little ash onto her desk.

“Hey!” Ellie immediately pulled out a feather duster and dusted it off. “Mind the case files, Nick!”

“Which one is that,” Nick asked disinterestedly.

“Marty's.”

Nick sighed, “I'll have to get to that one, once Eliza's case is out of the way.”

“You could handle it while I'm at Sanctuary,” I suggested.

Ellie shook her head. “One case at a time. Unless, of course, we had two detectives...”

She leaned over the desk with a downright predatory look in her eyes. I scooted back a little. This was the most aggressive job interview that'd ever been sprung on me.

“I just don't know if I'm detective material,” I confessed, “I'm a lawyer.”

“A detective is just a lawyer with a gun, right?” Ellie grinned.

“No,” Nick and I said flatly.

“I don't know who you just insulted more,” Nick said dryly, “the lawyer or the cop.”

“Anyway,” Ellie said, cutting him off, “I think you'd be a great detective, Eliza—er, Miss Saint.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Ellie. That means a lot coming from you. But until I find my son, I can't make any promises.”

Ellie huffed, but she said she understood. She then glared at Nick and stomped off to finish the laundry. I glanced at Nick with my eyebrows raised.

“She thinks I'm avoiding getting a partner. Thinks I'm scaring you off,” he muttered.

“Far from it,” I chuckled.

Nick looked at me from under his fedora, then went back to staring at the Boston Bugle on his desk. I looked around the office and spotted a painting on the wall of a moose in a field of flowers.

“Nice painting,” I said.

“I rescued a traveling artist from pack of feral ghouls. Guy was scavving for oil paint and didn't see 'em coming. He didn't have a cap on him, so he painted me that. Sometimes I think about throwing it out, but Ellie likes it.”

“Why a moose?”

Nick shrugged. “Why not?”

“Fair point,” I said.

Ellie walked into the room with my Vault suit folded neatly in her arms. She handed it to me, saying, “Here Eliza. I sewed up the other holes too.”

“Did the duct tape leave any residue?” I frowned. “I know that can be hard to sew through; I'm sorry.”

“No, it actually came off really easily. Something about the rubberized fabric?” Ellie shrugged. “Vault-Tec got that right, at least.”

I smiled slightly. “One good thing. I'm going to step out and put this on, excuse me.”

Ellie pointed at the ceiling. “Use my spare bed.”

Up in Ellie's room, I tugged on the Vault suit. She'd done a fair job of stitching it up, but... _It wouldn't hurt to let Codsworth have a go at it,_ I decided. I strapped on the rest of my armor and buckled on my helmet. Then, I walked back downstairs.

“You're leaving already?” Ellie stood up from her desk. “I thought you and Nick were on the case?”

“We are, but I've got to head back to Sanctuary and do some maintenance on a suit of Power Armor. It's for the Glowing Sea,” I added, seeing her confusion, “so I really need to spend a lot of time on it.”

“But what about Nick,” Ellie pouted.

Nick had his head down slightly, the brim of his fedora masking his expression. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

“I thought he'd prefer to stay here,” I admitted, “where he doesn't have to carry all the junk I'm going to need.”

Nick chuckled.

“I mean, you're a busy person, Nick.” I addressed him directly now. “I don't want to drag you around doing something tedious when there are people here who desperately need your help. I mean, I need your help too, but... I can carry my own pencils. These people need you more.”

“Damn thoughtful of you,” he said.

I smiled and shrugged. “I don't want to be a burden. So I'm off, and I should be back in three to five days. If I'm gone more than a week, well...”

“I'll find you,” Nick said, “but don't worry about it. You'll be fine.”

I nodded, trying to look more confident than I felt. Waving good-bye, I left the Agency. The neon sign outside of the door made a humming sound as it burned brightly in the early morning light. I walked down the alley and turned into the market place. I could hear the merchants shouting, and little Nat yelling out about the Publick.

 _I still owe Piper an interview,_ I realized, but I had too much on my mind to talk right now. The Glowing Sea was no joke; I had to be certain that I was prepared. With that in mind, I bought every lead-containing item that Myrna had to offer, and so I ended up walking out of Diamond City with four pencils and a 10 lb lead weight in my pack.

Traveling between Diamond City and Sanctuary was starting to become normal for me. For once, I remembered which way I was going, and managed to make it up to Red Rocket without getting lost. For me, that was a huge achievement, although part of me wondered why I was suddenly so comfortable in the Commonwealth. Was it progress or just a leftover mnemonic impression from Nick? _I'd like to think it's the first one, but I'm not certain..._ Almost automatically, my fingers reached for a cigarette.

“Fiddlesticks,” I grumbled.

I needed a distraction, fast, so I stopped at Red Rocket to have a Nuka Cola. I sat alone at the dusty bar, staring out at the rusted cars and broken gas machines. I took a sip of my cola. _What a world to be in._

I tuned my Pip-Boy radio to Diamond City Radio; it was my new favorite channel. I leaned both elbows back onto the counter and sipped my cola in relative relaxation, listening to the wind through the dead trees and the soft crooning of the Inkspots.

... _I don't want to set the world on fire...I just want to start, a flame in your heart..._

I tilted the bottle skyward, sending the last of the cola shooting into my mouth. I wiped my lips on my sleeve and looked at the bottle.

“What do you say,” I said, “you think you could make a good lightbulb?”

Turning it over, I decided it would. I stowed the empty bottle in my pack and walked over the bridge to Sanctuary. I always got a little thrill crossing the Old North Bridge; like Preston had said, it was where the first shots of the Revolutionary War were fired. _The spirit of our country was born here_ , I thought. _I'll not let it die here, too._

Back in Sanctuary, I dropped all my junk at the workshop. Sturges came over and leaned against a nearby wall.

“How's it goin',” he asked.

“We're making good headway finding Shaun, but the trail's led into some very dangerous territory,” I said.

“Dangerous, huh? What kind of danger we talkin' here?”

“Radiation. Specifically, the Glowing Sea.”

“Damn.” Sturges' eyes widened. “That's some intense shit right there.”

“No foolin',” I said as I walked up to the power armor I'd scored in Concord. I looked at the bullet holes and tears in the metal. This thing needed a lot of work.

“Sturges, do you think you could do me a favor?”

“What d'ya need?” Sturges stood up straight, grabbed a wrench from his belt, and started flipping it in his hands. “You thinkin' of sprucing that suit up? Makin' it radworthy?”

“That's exactly what I'm thinking, Sturges.” I looked at the junk I'd just dropped on the ground. “You think you could teach me how to mod this kind of thing? It's a little out of my area of expertise.”

Sturges laughed. “Well, after savin' our lives and buildin' our homes with your own two hands, I figure the least I can do is have some fun patchin' up this old beauty.” He rapped his knuckles fondly on the power armor. “Consider it done, General.”

“Thank you, Sturges,” I said, “I really appreciate it. Have you seen Preston?”

“He's walking the perimeter. Think he's lookin' for you, actually.” Sturges leaned forward and examined the huge tear in the chest armor.

“Thanks Sturges.” I walked back to my house. If Preston needed me, he could come find me here. After the walk from Diamond City, all I wanted was some Sugar Bombs and a nice nap. Codsworth was hovering in the kitchen, scrubbing the cabinets.

“Afternoon, mum!” he said.

I checked my Pip-Boy in surprise. “Wow, it's already three. I didn't think it was that late.”

“Losing track of time, mum?” Codsworth chuckled. “How goes the search?”

“We're doing great. We've got a really solid lead.” I sat down at the dining table. “I've just got to patch up that suit so I can follow it.”

“Going into danger, are we?” Codsworth turned and looked at me. “I do hope you're being careful, mum.”

“Very careful, Codsworth. I promise.”

“Thank you, mum,” he sighed, “I can't tell you what a relief that is.”

“So how have you been, sweetie?” I stood up and got myself a plastic bowl, filling it with Sugar Bombs.

“Oh, the usual. Mister Sturges is working on the plumbing, and I've taken to patrolling the area with Mister Garvey. Protecting the homestead and all that.”

“That's great, Codsworth.” I looked out the window; the Longs were walking on the other side of the street. “It's nice to have neighbors again.”

“Can't have a proper neighborhood without them, can we?” Codsworth handed me a spoon.

I took it. “No, we can't. I'm going to eat these really quick and take a nap, okay?”

“Yes, mum.”

I scarfed down the Sugar Bombs, enjoying the familiar crunch and sweetness. I looked over at Codsworth as he bustled about the kitchen, cleaning and cooking with glee. Outside, my new neighbors were fixing a picket fence. That made me smile.

_Some things never change._


	3. Retracing Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realizing she's lost an item most precious to her, Eliza is visited by her synthetic compatriot, who proves to be helpful in more ways then one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh I am so sorry it's taken me this long to finish this chapter! I've been swamped with assignments and this got put on the backburner. So here, have a nice long chapter!

The next day I noticed it was gone.

When I opened my pack at lunch and didn't see it, I had an uneasy feeling. I had dug through every pocket, tore through every container in my pack, but it was nowhere to be found. Every filing cabinet yielded no results. I burst into the kitchen.

“Codsworth, have you seen Nate's holotape?!”

“The one from sir? No, mum, I can't say that I have. Shall I help you search?”

“Yes!” I tore the couch cushions off. “Yes, help me!”

We searched for hours. Codsworth finally made me sit down so he could search more efficiently; I was making more of a mess every moment. I put the cushions back on the couch, curled up on it, and pressed my face into my knees. It was gone. Nate's holotape. His voice, Shaun's voice... _Oh God, now Shaun's never going to hear his father's voice._

That alone nearly made me burst into tears. I hugged my knees, desperately praying that Codsworth would find it. _Please. Please. Not for me, for Shaun._

I don't know how long I laid there before there was a knock on our front door, but the sun was starting its slow descent outside. I stood, wiping the budding tears from my eyes, and opened the door. Standing there, stock-still and heavily agitated, was Nick Valentine.

“Nick?” I stood there with the door wide open. “I thought you stayed in Diamond City.”

“I did,” he said, “and I was at the Agency, and... I found this.”

Nick held out a small holotape. I knew before I even touched it what it contained. Sure enough, as I slid it out of his fingers and held it up, I saw Nate's handwriting: _Hi Honey!_

“I'm so sorry, I didn't know what it was. I just found it at the Agency, I thought it was Marty's, so I played it, and I...” Nick was stammering, his metal hand fiddling with the holotape. “I'm so sorry, Eliza.”

“You listened to it?” I said.

“I didn't know!” Nick was rigid. “I just... I'm so sorry, Eliza.”

“Nick, it's okay.” I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. “I'm not mad, I promise. I'm actually really happy.”

Nick's eyes widened. “What?”

“Nick, I thought it was gone forever! I've been a wreck all day.” A grin was spreading across my face as the tightness of my chest evaporated. “I wanted to give that to Shaun one day, Nick. I was devastated, and you found it. And you made it all the way to Sanctuary to give it to me! What a detective! Thank you, thank you so much!”

His dumbfounded expression made me laugh. I took the holotape from him and put it back in the filing cabinet where it belonged. I wasn't taking it out of the house again; losing this wasn't an option.

“Thank God,” I said, “Codsworth? Sweetie, Nick found it!”

“Ah, Detective Valentine!” Codsworth whirred happily. “Our knight in shining armor yet again! Er, no offense meant.”

I laughed. Nick stammered something modest, and Codsworth hummed off. Nick rubbed the back of his neck with his metal hand.

“You okay, Nick?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just... I thought for sure you'd be angry. I, I really didn't mean to listen to it... I know I've been digging through your dirty laundry to find your son, but I'm not the kind of detective to snoop into a lady's private affairs.” Nick trailed off, looking ashamed. “That was your husband, wasn't it? And your kid?”

“Yeah.” I smiled softly. “That was Nate. Shaun too.”

“So... your last name is Saint.”

“Yeah.”

“Was Nate's last name Saint?”

“No,” I said softly, “It was Breckenridge.”

“Breckenridge?” Nick said incredulously, “But I thought--”

“I kept my maiden name when I left the Vault. I guess it was my way of telling myself that Nate was... really gone. Telling myself I was on my own again. That's why on the holotape, Nate says 'patience of a Saint.' My mom used to say that all the time, and she was the most patient woman I've ever known. That was what our family was kind of known for. Patience. It's patience that's gotten me this far, Nick. It's patience that kept me alive. Oh,” I gave him half a grin. “And you. You definitely help keep me alive.”

“Glad to do it.” Nick squared his shoulders. “So, we're good?”

“Yes, thanks to you, Nick.”

“Don't mention it.” He lit a cigarette. “Seriously, don't.”

I laughed. “That embarrassing, huh? Well, thanks again anyways. We shall speak of it no longer.”

“Thank God,” he grumbled.

Codsworth hovered past us to the kitchen. I looked at the dining table, then back at Nick.

“If you're already here,” I said, “I don't suppose you'd mind sticking around for dinner? Mama Murphy said she'd teach me how to make mirelurk salsa.”

Nick blinked. “I really should get back to the office. Ellie'll kill me if I'm out too long.”

I tried not to sound disappointed. “Okay. Another time then.”

He turned around, grabbed the doorhandle to close it, and then sighed.

“You know what,” he said, “Ellie'll forgive me. She keeps tellin' me to take a break, well, I'm takin' one.”

He stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, then hung his trench coat on the coat rack by the door. I tried not to look surprised; it was the first time I'd ever seen Nick take off that coat. I turned and started setting the table.

“Can I help,” he asked.

I handed him some cutlery. “You can be in charge of silverware.”

“A great and terrible responsibility,” he drawled, his voice slick with sarcasm.

That made me laugh. “Don't let us down, Nick.”

While Nick set the table, I laid out the plates. He noticed the three settings and frowned.

“You expecting company?”

“Mama Murphy, remember? She's teaching me how to make mirelurk salsa.” I looked at the door. “She should be here any minute.”

“Mirelurk... salsa?”

“Apparently it's the best thing Sturges ever tasted,” I said, “and she makes it for the Longs every Sunday.”

“Ah.” Nick put the last spoon into place.

I heard the door open behind me, and Mama Murphy came shuffling in the house.

“Hey kid,” she cackles, “I see you got yourself help from Diamond City. What'd I tell ya?”

“You're never wrong, Mama Murphy.” I grinned. “This is Nick Valentine.”

The two sized each other up. Mama Murphy grinned so wide that I could see most of her crooked teeth, and she patted his arm affectionately.

“I knew she'd find you,” Mama Murphy said, “I saw it.”

Nick glanced at me.

“She sees the future,” I admitted, “and I don't know how it works, but it does.”

“It's the Sight, kid.” Mama Murphy went to the counter and pulled out a combat knife.

She started dicing mirelurk meat with ease. Nick exchanged a look with me, then sat down at the kitchen table. I pulled some tatoes out of the fridge; it wasn't powered, but at least it was air tight.

“Mince those, kid.” Mama Murphy pulled down a frying pan and poured a little cooking oil in it. She looked at the oven. “Does that thing work?”

“Um, Codsworth, sweetie?” I glanced over at him. “Does the oven still work?”

“Not the old one, mum, but that newfangled cooking stove you installed works quite well.”

“Got it.” Mama Murphy crossed over to the dark grey stove and started heating the oil. “Yeah, this'll do just fine.”

I minced the tatoes carefully. Mama Murphy showed me how to fry them with the mirelurk meat, adding a full cup's worth of a small, strong-smelling leaf to the mix. I leaned over and took a deep whiff.

“My goodness, it's cilantro. That still exists.” I grinned. “Wow. I... I guess I forgot that stuff grows wild.”

“All good things grow wild, kid.” Mama Murphy quickly tossed the leaves in and stirred them around briefly, allowing their juices to heat up just enough. Then she slid the contents of the frying pan onto a plate. “There ya go kid, mirelurk a la Murphy.”

“It looks great, Mama Murphy.” I took a deep breath, filling my nose with the sweet, tangy scent. “And it smells amazing.”

“Tastes better,” she said.

Without warning, she stuck a hot spoonful of it into my mouth. I tossed it about my mouth in alarm, trying to cool it off, then chewed it more slowly. It really was the most flavorful thing I'd had in a long while.

I swallowed. “Color me impressed, Mama Murphy. You're a good cook.”

“I had a lotta practice,” she said, “when I was cookin' for my life.”

“For your life?”

“I was kidnapped by this group of Raiders, see, on account of me turnin' down the offer to be their leader.” Mama Murphy grinned as she served us all up plates of mirelurk salsa. “They were fixin' to put a bullet in me, but they didn't have a brain between 'em, so I told them I'd hire up as their resident cook. I perfected all my best recipes there, because if they didn't like how it tasted, boom! No more Mama Murphy!”

Nick and I exchanged looks, but we didn't challenge her. While we ate, Mama Murphy spun one far-fetched tale after another, and Nick began to try and catch her in her contradictions.

“Now wait a minute,” he said, “there were seven men in the room and you shot them all blindfolded, using only a pipe revolver.”

“Yep. I was quite the shot,” she said.

“A pipe revolver has only six bullets.” Nick raised his eyebrows. “So how'd you shoot six bullets and kill seven men?”

I grinned and looked at Mama Murphy, who shrugged.

“One of 'em musta ricocheted. How would I know, I was blindfolded.”

Nick's eyes narrowed shrewdly. “...Touché.”

I laughed and picked up the empty plates. Codsworth quickly took them from me and started cleaning.

“Thanks, sweetie.” I patted his dome. “You're a huge help.”

“Proud to serve, mum!” Codsworth cleaned with enthusiasm.

After dinner, Nick and I walked Mama Murphy back down the street to her house. She waved us off irritably.

“I'm not too old t'walk, y'know,” she said before she slammed the door.

Nick and I chuckled. As we walked back to the house, I saw Sturges working on the power armor.

“Hey!” He yelled when he saw us, waving a wrench in the air. “Come look at this!”

Sturges had completely repaired the gash in the chest piece. I ran my hand over the completely smooth repair job, marveling.

“Wow,” I said, “that's amazing! How'd you do that?”

Sturges tossed his wrench in the air and caught it. “A little steel and a lotta know-how.”

I inspected the fix; Sturges had repaired it so quickly that I could scarcely believe it. There were still some .38 holes speckling the limbs of the suit, but if the gash took only a few hours... _We might have this thing Glowing-Sea-worthy in a few days._

“So, this is your ticket to the Glowing Sea, huh?” Nick leaned against a nearby wall. “Not exactly X-01, but it'll do.”

“It'll work,” Sturges promised.

“Sturges can fix anything,” I said, smiling.

“Aw shucks,” he chuckled.

Nick tilted his hat up slightly. “I'm pretty handy with machines myself; mind if I take a look-see?”

“Not at all,” I said.

“Have at it.” Sturges shrugged.

Nick rolled up his sleeves, revealing his synthetic forearms. He picked up a wrench and set to work. Within seconds he had popped off every bolt on the left leg. Sturges and I exchanged a look.

“You're fast, Nick,” I said.

“I have to be,” he grunted, “I'm made of this stuff. Ever replace half your leg under heavy cover fire?”

“I've never needed to, thank God,” I admitted.

“Lemme give ya a hand there, Detective.” Sturges grabbed a blowtorch.

Nick nodded. “By all means.”

“Well, I can see when I'm not needed,” I said, “so I'll just find Preston and see who needs my help, because you two clearly have this covered.”

“He's around here somewhere lookin' for you,” Sturges reminded.

“Thanks, Sturges. Thanks, Nick.”

“Don't mention it,” Nick said.

I walked away, rubbing my shoulders. Everything was moving along, but slowly. That was good. The only way I was going to get my son out of the Institute without them pre-emptively crushing me was with little steps.

Soft steps, like retracing memories.

 


End file.
